


you're something i'd been pleading for

by seeingrightly



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), i just wanted something soft for this version of the characters, okay technically it's post uprising but i swear it's 99 percent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 08:47:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15703830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: When he heads out of the bedroom, he can smell that coffee has been made, and when he enters the kitchen, all the supplies for tea are waiting and ready for him. Hermann sets up the kettle before he continues to search for Newt. One of the cats nearly trips him up as he peeks into the living room, but they recover without issue. Finally, he goes to look in their small yard.or: post-uprising domestic fluff with minimal angst





	you're something i'd been pleading for

**Author's Note:**

> i really wanna play around with the idea of newt finally experiencing drift bleed from hermann once the precursors are gone, ages after hermann adjusted to his drift bleed from newt, but i'm having a hard time coming up with a way to address it that is only fun and not super angsty lmao but here is a taste of that concept
> 
> title from "i've been waiting for you" by abba of course

 

 

 

 

Hermann hates waking up to find the other side of the bed empty. He knows it isn’t supposed to be, now, so there’s always a moment of doubt, despite the fact that this is their room in their townhouse, not a place he ever existed in without Newt. And he worries - though less than he did when they first moved here, right after the defeat of the precursors, when Newt was still fairly early on in his recovery - about what Newt is up to, why he’s awake first.

 

He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. Newt is an earlier riser than he used to be, and has always kept odd hours. Hermann knows this. He is used to this. He just forgets, before he is fully conscious, sometimes.

 

He rises from bed and goes through the motions of getting ready for the day, calming with the routine, as usual. It’s Sunday. He has papers to grade, and they recorded a movie a few nights ago with the intention of watching it today. He allows himself the indulgence of wearing his slippers instead of less comfortable shoes, and he leaves the top two buttons of his shirt undone under his cardigan because Newt will like that. Hermann is ready to face this day; he is ready to greet Newt with no traces of lingering panic.

 

When he heads out of the bedroom, he can smell that coffee has been made, and when he enters the kitchen, all the supplies for tea are waiting and ready for him. Hermann sets up the kettle before he continues to search for Newt. One of the cats nearly trips him up as he peeks into the living room, but they recover without issue. Finally, he goes to look in their small yard.

 

Unsurprisingly, this is where he finds Newt, curled up on one of the uncomfortable patio chairs with the other cat in his lap. There is a mug on the table nearest him. From this angle, Hermann can just see that the knees of Newt’s pajama pants are dirty. They hardly have room to garden, but they do it anyway, and in Newt’s case, at all sorts of hours.

 

When Hermann opens the sliding door, the cat jumps off of Newt’s lap to come inside, and Newt wraps his arms around himself as he looks up at Hermann and smiles. Newt is wearing a thick cardigan of his own, a bit heavy for the weather, but he’s found that he gets colder more easily now. It might be from drifting with Hermann; it might be an excuse for comfortable, protective clothing.

 

“Good morning, dear,” Hermann says, leaning down and balancing with a hand on Newt’s shoulder to kiss him gently.

 

“Hi,” Newt says, catching two fingers in the slight v of Hermann’s collar to kiss him again, smiling into it.

 

Hermann straightens, but he reaches out a hand to fix a wild section of hair above Newt’s ear. He lingers, brushing through the graying strands. Newt indulges him for a few patient moments, then unfolds his legs and reaches up to try to pull Hermann down onto the chair with him.

 

“The kettle will be ready any moment,” Hermann protests, and Newt pouts, so he gives in.

 

The only way to sit in Newt’s lap remotely comfortably is facing away from him. It can’t be all that enjoyable for Newt, since Hermann can’t really support any of his own weight, but Newt hums and wraps his arms around Hermann’s waist.

 

“We should take a trip to the beach soon,” Newt says, only sounding a little squashed.

 

“Newton, darling, it’s  _ October _ ,” Hermann replies.

 

“Haven’t you ever gone to the beach when it’s cold?” Newt asks, surprised. “It’s really pretty. And usually deserted. A little spooky, too. It’s nice. And a good time to check out the wildlife.”

 

“If we go to the beach in October you are  _ not _ splashing around in the freezing water so you can look at hermit crabs,” Hermann says sternly.

 

Newt lets out a quiet grumble that makes Hermann suspect that Newt has heard a very similar warning before.

 

“Would you like to go the weekend after midterms?” Hermann relents, though he  _ will _ prevent Newt from actually getting in the water.

 

“That sounds good,” Newt says, kissing the back of Hermann’s neck, his cold nose making Hermann shiver. “Oh, should we write the midterm tonight?”

 

“We were going to watch that movie after my papers are graded,” Hermann replies. “And you don’t have to be involved in writing the midterm.”

 

Newt has yet to return to work, but he often tags along to Hermann’s classes to help, and to “help.” Hermann is fairly confident that Newt will actually join him in academia, once he understand himself again enough to know what wants. It has not been easy, to find himself in the aftermath of the precursors, and with bits of Hermann lingering in his brain too. Hermann has done his best to show that he will love whoever Newt ends up discovering he is now.

 

“I want to,” Newt says, slotting their left hands together so that their rings clink. “What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, baby.”

 

“Yes, this is exactly what our vows were meant to refer to,” Hermann replies dryly, hoping he was already pink from the cold.

 

Newt huffs out a laugh and stretches his neck oddly so that he can press a warm kiss to Hermann’s ear. The kettle whistles then, and they struggle to make it out of the chair, both laughing ruefully until they’re on their feet. Hermann collects Newt’s mug on the way inside; it’s mostly full of now-cold coffee.

 

“I keep forgetting I don’t need or even really like coffee anymore,” Newt says quietly as Hermann drains the mug and sets it in the sink, and then Newt gestures to the kettle. “Will you make me a cup?”

 

Newt’s started taking his tea exactly the way Hermann takes it. Hermann finds it charming, but it seems to unsettle Newt, so he doesn’t say anything as he prepares them. One of them he makes in the large chipped teacup with the hand-painted dragon pattern; this one, of course, he hands to Newt. 

 

Hermann leans back against the counter and reaches out with the hand that isn’t holding his own cup of tea. Newt steps into his embrace, leaning against him and resting his head on his shoulder, their cups of tea held close and warm between them. One of the cats wanders over to weave between their legs a little precariously, and Newt breathes out a laugh against Hermann’s throat. Then he hums thoughtfully, pressing his lips against the underside of Hermann’s jaw.

 

“What do you want for breakfast?” Newt asks. “I wanna make you something nice.”

 

“Whatever for?” Hermann asks, surprised.

 

Newt certainly has the basic ability to cook, but he rarely has the patience and attention span for it, and usually if Newt is involved it’s because they’re working together.

 

“Because I love you and I want to take care of you, duh, come on, man,” Newt says, still tucked into Hermann’s shoulder.

 

Hermann hears what isn’t being said: Because you’re always taking care of me. There’s guilt there, he knows, guilt he isn’t sure how to assuage. But this particular instance seems innocent enough, and Newt is waiting for his permission rather than jumping right to it.

 

“That sounds lovely,” Hermann says, pressing his lips to the side of Newt’s head before releasing him. “Thank you, darling. How do waffles sound to you?”

 

“Great,” Newt replies, though Hermann’s not sure which part it’s a response to.

 

Newt cups his cheek and darts in for a quick kiss before he pulls away, taking a sip of his tea and then setting it down. His ring clinks against the teacup as he moves, and he pauses to look at his outstretched fingers for a moment. Hermann worries briefly about the path Newt’s thoughts will go down, but when Newt looks over his shoulder at Hermann, his expression is soppy and sweet.

 

“I love you,” he says again, fiercely this time, his voice cracking. “I’m gonna make you  _ so _ many waffles.”

 

Hermann laughs, helplessly, infinitely charmed by this odd little man. Overcome, he speaks without bothering to consider how silly he sounds too.

 

“And I will make you endless cups of tea, my dear.”

 

Newt laughs too, and for a moment, they just smile at one another, in their kitchen with their cats, in their home, in the truly unbelievable life they’ve built together. Hermann doesn’t want to break the moment, but he has something more important to do.

 

“I love you,” he says, and Newt’s smile turns soppy again as he steps back into Hermann’s arms to kiss him.

 

The waffles do get made, eventually.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [ch3ry1b10ss0m](https://www.ch3ry1b10ss0m.tumblr.com) or twitter at [coralbluenmbr5](https://www.twitter.com/coralbluenmbr5)


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